Saving Margaret
by NotMyLullaby
Summary: Margaret's mother gets annoyed by Margaret's wit, insight, and the capability to solve everything. Margaret finally runs away from her drunken unappreciative mother. With a hidden past, no money, and no shelter, Margaret is forced to live on the streets of London. That is, until she meets a certain consulting detective. OC/Sherlock OC/Moriarty Rated T for violence and language.
1. Ordinary

**Hello! So, this is my first story ever! I'm super excited and I've already pre-written it, so I should have more chapters soon! I hope you all like it, don't hate me! D:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC's Sherlock. I wish I did, but sadly I don't.**

It was never going to be an ordinary day. The day started like normal. Waking up to brightness. The light bursting out of the blinds. She winced and dragged herself off of the small mattress that lay on the floor of her ordinary room in her ordinary house. Well, her house wasn't ordinary. It was a flat. Her mother couldn't afford anything else.

It was small and had a fantastic view of the wall of the building next to theirs. It smelled of stale alcohol and cigarette smoke. The couch in the front room was tattered and destroyed, making it look like they had a dog that wasn't trained. She quickly got dressed in jeans and an old jumper. She brushed her hair once and peeked out of her bedroom door. She could hear the soft snores coming from her Mother's room, which smelled worse than the already cigarette smoke infested house.

She walked out of her room, not worrying about any sounds she makes. Her Mother is sleeping, she knows her mother is a heavy sleeper and is probably sleeping off the alcohol she had the night before. She grabbed a not too bruised apple from the fridge and headed out.

London was a beautiful place, in her mind. She pretended that everything was so magnificent, when in reality, it really wasn't. She wanted to think that her life was somewhat satisfying, but it was hard for her because when she takes off the mask, she is alone. She's been alone most of her little life. Her father left when she was five, she doesn't remember him, but her mother only took care of her for a couple of years after that. Then she got into drinking, which lead to other ridiculous things.

Margaret's intelligent. More intelligent than the average human. She figures out things quickly. In school, she would always know answers to the test. She would know how people feel and think, by their expressions. She could solve a puzzle very quickly. She got straight A's throughout her schooling years. Not that it mattered though, her Mother didn't care. She didn't have a life where she got home and her Mother is gleaming while she tells her about her day. Not once.

She already finished university and has a major in forensics. She liked that kind of stuff. Every now and then she would walk by a crime scene and count all the things they've gotten wrong. She's thought many times that she could get a job and join the work that she liked, but she stopped thinking when she remembered that she can't do it. She just can't. It has to do with her Mother, expense, and expecting more. She didn't want that to happen.

Nowadays she walked around London, over thinking and occasionally grabbing a coffee. She spent most of her time in the park, where she speculated people's lives with just a glance.

Tourists were always interesting, she deciphered whether they were visiting family or going on a vacation just by how big their bags are. What sort of climate they are used to by looking at their reaction to the weather. Did they pack sunscreen? Are they wearing a big coat? Do they have sunglasses on the rim of their shirts, if they do, they are probably used to that and they live where the sun always shines. If it's fall, what area is sunny? Are they foreigners? What language? What lifestyle? It was all to be figured out with a few seconds of calculating in her brain.

It scared her sometimes, but it also excited her. Her mother knew of her talents and hated them. She rarely talks to her mother, so her mother doesn't realize that her talent has grown more powerful with age. What would she think now? That's part of the reason why she didn't want to join forensics or be a detective. Her mother would hate it, her being smart all the time. But why should Margaret care? Her mother ignores her anyways. This question has been on Margaret's mind for quite some time.

She pushed the thought out of her mind. She didn't want to think of her future, not now. She was going to go to the park like always, but she didn't feel like it today. She walked down streets, by shops, and occasionally glancing through the shops windows. She pulled her old wallet out of her bag. Only twenty pounds. She frowned and put it back. She needed the money for groceries. She only had a limited amount.

She went to the market and purchased pasta, fruit, and any other filling foods she can find. Her mother rarely ate at home, well, she rarely ate at all. She would get drinks and occasionally dinner bought by some men at the bar. Sometimes, if a man was good enough, her mother would bring them home. It disgusted Margaret.


	2. The Coffee Shop

By the end of the trip, she had a few pounds left. She went a couple streets down to her favorite coffee shop. She got a small coffee, one milk two sugars, and a small slice of iced lemon pound cake. She sat down at a table by a window. The delicious cake melted in her mouth and she savored the taste. She stared out the window, watching people walk by on the busy street. She occasionally took sips of her coffee and got lost in thought.

"Excuse me?" She heard a voice say. She slightly jumped and turned her head. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even realize a man was standing by her table. He smiled warmly down at her.

"Yes?" She asked.

"May I sit here? This place was awfully crowded." He said. She looked around, indeed it was. It wasn't like that before, she must have been sitting there for a while.

"Yeah, of course." She said and gave a small smile. He returned it and sat across from her in the booth.

She observed him. He's not very tall, he has dirty blonde hair. By his posture and his formal way of speaking, she can tell he was in some sort of war. Not married. Underneath his fingernails were clean, which means he keeps himself well groomed. Maybe for a special someone? Well, apart from his hair, which is messy. Since he is so well groomed, therefore he was in a rush to get here or slept in late which would be likely judging by his tired eyes.

She kept observing when he looked at her. She quickly looked away and resumed her position of looking out the window. She could tell he was looking at her strange from the corner of her eye. She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. She was embarrassed. She usually didn't get caught. She took a small sip of her coffee and looked out the window again, observing people. She soon forgot that the man was even there.

"What happened?" The man asked after a few minutes. She snapped her head towards him, breaking her train of thought on a woman who's cheating on her husband.

"I'm sorry?" She asked. His blue eyes looked at her. He shyly pointed at her head. She touched it and winced. She'd forgot about that. A few nights ago, one of her mother's boyfriends got home, he was drunk. He didn't know that her mother had a daughter, he was mad about that. So, he slammed her head against a wall. The red bruise was a bit below her hairline. She looked around and blinked a few times.

"Nothing." She replied. Her voice was shaky and slightly uneven. He narrowed his eyes as if not believing her.

"Really?" He asked, his eyes were filled his suspicion and worry.

"Yes." She said a little too quickly. She quickly looked away from his gaze and stared out the window. She felt uneasy. She could tell out of the corner of her eye that he was observing her bruise. Must be a doctor. An army doctor.


	3. Hide

She left soon after that, for she was done with her coffee. She felt uneasy the whole time finishing her coffee. She could tell that he was stealing glances. She didn't want to be rude and just leave. So, she finished her coffee, putting it on the table a bit hard to signal that the liquid was gone. This caught his attention. She smiled weakly, avoiding eye contact and scurried out of the coffee shop. She sighed a breath of relief once she was alone on the pavement. She walked past the window and glanced in his general direction. He looked at her, confusion written in his face. She glanced back down and kept walking on.

She had walked almost at the end of the street when she heard:

"Miss, Miss!" It was the man and he was running towards her, having a slight, unnoticeable limp. Hmm, must have been shot. She glanced and walked faster until he couldn't see her. Then she bolted down another street and another. She didn't know why, she assumed it was just an instinct. She didn't want him asking questions of her nasty bruise. Finally she walked into a boutique of some sort and hid her self behind a rack, pretending to look at the clothes. She waited a few minutes. When she didn't see him coming, she walked back out, getting nasty looks from the clerk.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he wasn't anywhere in sight. She decided to go to the park.

She never really had much friends. She had a few when she was smaller, but they would always want to go to her house. She got pressured so much that one day she actually did. They were disgusted by her house and her drunken mother. Her friend told her Mother and she told the authorities. Her mother went to jail for a while, while Margaret was in an orphanage. She hated it there. She was forced to wear a uniform and go to school. She never had a single friend after that.

That's why she was so comfortable with being alone, because she's been alone almost her whole life. She befriended her proffesors though, even though they weren't official friends, they always had a place in her heart.

She's never told anyone of her past, not that she has anyone to tell. It's just because she doesn't want to. The only story she's ever told someone was how she got in the orphanage and it was with a complete stranger. Another boy in the orphanage. They didn't exchange names, but he didn't have any friends either. He told her his story and she told hers. It wasn't an act of the hope of getting a friend. It was to get it off their chest, and to have another person understand and not judge you for your past. It was a nice thing that they did for each other. They weren't friends. They feared that if they became friends, that they would get attached and have to leave . But, occasionally they would meet up in then night and talk about their bad dreams and their feelings of the wretched orphanage.

They only did that a few times though. For a few days later, he was sent to a foster home and she never saw him again. She'd never forget him though. He was the only one who could truly understand what she felt, who aided to her emotions. She'd always remember his kind blue eyes, that assured her that everything was going to be alright. She hated to admit it, but he was the closest thing to a true friend that she'd ever gotten.


	4. Too Much

Margaret returned home after a long, peaceful day. Except for that man of course. But she didn't let that set her day off. Overall, she was somewhat happy. Until she got home.

"Margaret? Is that you?" Her mother yelled once she walked through the front door. She found it odd that her mother was even talking to her.

"Yeah?" She replied, question in her voice. But soon she smelled the smoke and alcohol that filled her nostrils and she understood. She walked through the hall and into the living room, where her mother sat with a cigarette in one hand, wine in the other, and a man at her side.

"Hey." Her mom smiled. The man smiled too. Margaret stared at them, not giving any sign of returning that smile. "George, this is Maggie my sister." Her mom said, pointing towards Margaret.

"Margaret." She simply said. Her mother widened her eyes and gave a hateful look on her face than turned back towards George with a smile.

"Right, well her nick name is Maggie." Her mother said. "Anyways, she's my sister and she's been living with me for a while." She said, looking at the guy. He nodded and gave Margaret a warm smile. Too bad, he looked like a pretty good guy. "Her best friend she was living with just passed away and I couldn't handle letting her be homeless." Her mom whispered, as if trying to hide it from Margaret. She put her hand on her chest and looked at the man with sadness.

"Oh." Was all he said. His face was full of sadness too, but his was genuine and real.

"Yeah. She didn't have a job, she still doesn't, so she couldn't afford to live on her own. And I, being the good big sister, am trying to scrape up enough for us to get by." She said, giving the man puppy dog eyes.

"I am so sorry. Well, if you ever need any money all you have to do is ask." He said. Margaret noticed that he was clean and proper. Probably rich. His phone was in his hand, a pretty expensive phone too. A bulge was in his right pocket, right handed and probably a wallet full of money.

"Well, you see that grocery bag?" Her mother asked and pointed towards the bag in Margaret's hand. He nodded. "That's our food for the whole week, maybe even the next." She said. Which was false, this was Margaret's food. The man quickly dug into his right pocket and pulled the wallet out which indeed was full of cash. He pulled out twenties and hundreds and didn't think twice about it. He held them out to her mother.

"Here." He said.

"Oh no, I couldn't" She said, but her eyes were on the money like they were prey.

"Just take it." He said gently and put the money into her hands. He got up, she did as well. "Thank you for having me over in your lovely home. But I must leave." He smiled and kissed her mother's cheek. She smiled sadly back.

"Thank you for the money." She said.

"Oh don't mention it." He said and they started walking towards the door. "It was nice meeting you Maggie." He gently said. Margaret smiled out of courtesy. Her mother opened the door for him and he was gone.

"Margaret!" Her mother yelled. "Next time I get your name wrong, just go with it." She said and returned back to the couch and lit a new cigarette, she started counting her money.

"Really mother? I'm your sister?" Margaret asked.

"Oh, hush. I have to do something to get money." She said and kept counting.

"But through pity? And he's a married man mother! Don't expect to fancy him in any way." She said.

"How do you know he's married? Another one of your bizarre tricks?" She asked.

"No, he has a wedding ring." She replied. Her mother looked down in embarrassment and anger.

"Don't back talk me missy. Just be lucky that we have another 2,000 pounds!"

"2,000?" Margaret asked in disbelief. "Mother, this is taking it to new levels." She said, trying to talk some sense into her mother.

"Oh don't tell me what's right and what's wrong, just be happy that you have more money for food." She said.

"No, I'm going to get the same amount, and you're just going to use all of that money yourself." Margaret said. Her mother looked down in thought.

"No, this is purely for you." She said. Margaret looked at her as if she was not sure if she was joking or not. "Use it for stitches when my boyfriend comes and bangs your head in the wall again!" She finished. Margaret closed her eyes, she almost believe her mother.

"No, keep it." Margaret said and headed into her room. She could feel her mother smiling behind her back in victory. Margaret went over to her bed and wept softly. She's had too much of this. She's had too much of everything. Her day was officially ruined, hell, her whole week was. She wondered why she was even here, why she even tolerated her mother. Her mother took it to new levels. Her mother was a con woman and Margaret was in on the game. She felt sorry for the poor man who was probably at the bar having a small drink as an end-of-the-day relaxer before heading home to his wife and kids. Margaret couldn't take this, she couldn't take it anymore. She's lived with it for too long.

A few hours after harsh thinking and crying she went out to the living room. Her mother was nowhere in sight. She noticed her raggy purse gone and Margaret went into her mother's room, praying for a miracle. She went over to her vanity and looked all over the place for the money. She checked everywhere. Then she finally checked her mother's sock drawer and smiled. The money was there, along with a few hundred dollars more. She took it, being careful not to touch anything else.

She then quickly went to her room and grabbed her backpack which had a few belongings in it. She went to the front door and turned around, sighing a breath of relief, for she was finally doing what she's always wanted to do and walked out the door for the last time.


	5. Romeo and Juliet pt 1

Margaret wandered the streets. It was night time, and she was a little nervous. But she pushed it aside because she finally was free. Even though the skies were dark and the moon shined bright, people still were on the streets of London, going home after a long day of work probably. Margaret subconsciously figured out people's lives as she walked passed them, smiling and frowning at some of the things she's discovered.

Soon, hours passed of her walking random streets. It was about midnight and not many people were out now. She was really tired and needed sleep, but she didn't know where to go and she didn't want to waste her precious money on a hotel room. She went to another random park and walked behind a bush. She didn't want anyone seeing her, whether it be they wanted to kill her or call the cops. She got a small blanket out of her bag and wrapped it around her, she laid her head on her bag. It was freezing, but she managed to drift into sleep.

She awoke to the birds chirping above her. Judging by the sun in the sky, she'd say it was about seven in the morning. She quickly got up and put her blanket back into her bag and walked away. She knew people would be out and about at this time, she didn't want to be seen. She wondered if her mother would do anything. Or, if she's noticed Margaret was gone. She doubted her mother would send out posters trying to find her, but she still wanted to stay hidden.

She walked to a nearby public bathroom and changed into new jeans and a grey shirt. She also packed her coat and shoved that on as well. She exited the bathroom, trying to be unsuspicious. She didn't know why, but she was really paranoid about her whole situation. Suddenly, she saw a cop car with lights and sirens drive by her on the street. After arguing with herself whether she should go or not, she finally decided she would walk in the general direction that the cars were going.

Some may say it's stupid, but she wanted adventure. She followed the sound of the sirens and after a fifteen minute walk, came to a scene where there was yellow police tape everywhere. She would normally not barge in, but there was a small amount of random people from the streets already crowded outside the tape. She kindly shoved her way to the front of the crowd. There was no actual scene, there was a door that policemen were guarding at a nearby house. There was only a few miscellaneous things on the ground that had numbers by them and were being photographed by police photographers.

She walked over to the side of the tape, trying to get a better look at one of the items when she noticed two men who looked like detectives talking. She walked closer to them, but pretended she was doing something else while she listened in.

"Repeat it all again please." A man with a large forehead and blank eyes asked the other man.

"So far, all we know is there's a dead body in the room, neighbors say they were woken by screams around midnight. But what is strange about this case is how neat everything was. It was murder, but it was all planned too perfect. There are small clues. The dead man was found with tiny stars scraped into his abdomen and arms. He was also dressed in all black even though he was a man who wears "color" as people say. His face had traces of makeup on it, but we need to do further tests to know the cause of death" The other man says like he's said it a thousand times, being annoyed with the man with the weird face.

"Doctor Inspector Lestraude..." The man said slowly. "Are you suggesting that this puzzle is so bad that we need to send _him_ in?" He asked, grimacing at the mention of _him_.

"Oh Anderson, he doesn't need your consent to send me in." A man suddenly says. Margaret decides not to look, then they would know about her listening in.

"Oh, hello Sherlock." The man sneers.

"It seems like the killer wanted to make a scene by portraying the victim with stars and makeup." The man Sherlock says mostly to himself, ignoring Anderson's greeting. Suddenly, a click came to Margaret's mind.

"When he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garnish sun." Margaret says happily. It's a line in Romeo and Juliet. She then realizes her mistake as the detectives beside her stop talking, she can feel their eyes on her.


	6. Romeo and Juliet pt 2

"What? Have you been listening in our conversation?" Anderson asks. She still doesn't turn around, a deep blush fills her cheeks.

"That's it!" Sherlock exclaims. He suddenly mumbles to himself.

"Excuse me? But have you been listening in? We can get you arrested for that." Anderson says again. Might as well Margret thinks to herself.

"Excu-" Anderson starts again, but is cut off.

"Anderson will you shut it! She is my new partner, now go do something useful." Sherlock says harshly and obviously annoyed. Margaret then hears a huff and then footsteps leading away.

"How did you come up with that? And I didn't know Sherlock had a new partner." Lestraude says. Margaret slowly turns around, her blushing cheeks now returned to normal. She avoids all eye contact and looks at the ground, her hair covering her face.

"He doesn't. I'm sorry for snooping" She says and turns to leave.

"Wait!" Sherlock yells after her. She turns back towards them but doesn't look at them. "Who are you?" He asks, curiosity on his face. She lifts her head and looks at him. She gasped. He was really tall with black hair and amazing blue green eyes. But that could have mattered less to her. She gasped because he looked strangely familiar. He mirrored her shocked and curious face as well. It seemed as if they knew each other, like they had a past. But she couldn't remember who he was. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before she cleared her throat and straightened up.

"I'm Margaret." She says simply. She shouldn't have said that, what if her mother had told someone she was missing. But she said it because maybe it would spark a remembrance in the man's memories. She could tell he knew her from somewhere too. But his expression was still the same when she told him her name. _So he doesn't know_ she thinks to herself.

"Sherlock." He says and holds out a hand. She faintly smiles and takes it. "Would you mind if I ask how you knew that?" He asks her. She shakes her head.

"No, um. I just am really smart and observant I guess." She says.

"Oh, so you were listening in on our conversation to get more information?" He asks accusingly. Her face goes pale and her heart jumps into her throat. Then Sherlock smiles and chuckles, indicating that he was only joking. She smiles back.

"Alright enough of you two flirting, let's get on with the case. And by the way, don't listen to Anderson, he's a git." Lestraude says. Margaret blushes behind her hair and smiles.

"Who's a git?" A man asks as he walks up to the scene. Margaret looks over Sherlock's shoulder only to see the man from the coffee shop. She sucks in a breath and a shocked look crosses her face. The man walks over to the circle they've grouped and takes a second glance at Margaret. A confused and shocked look passes his face. He opens his mouth to say something but Margaret cuts him off.

"Well, uh, I should get going." She says and gives a small smile and goes to leave. But not before Sherlock notices the relationship between Margaret and Watson.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock calls. Margaret turns towards them.

"Just places." She says and gives one last nervous look at John and one last apologetic look at Sherlock before walking down the street.

"What was that about?" Sherlock asks John, turning towards him.

"I saw her in the coffee shop yesterday. I noticed her bruise and asked her about it, but she said it was nothing. She was all paranoid and shaky. Then she left, but she forgot her wallet. So I called after her but she was running away from me. It was really bizarre." Watson said, Sherlock looked down in thought.

"I noticed the bruise too. She's really smart and observant; you should have heard what she said." Sherlock said to John. John clapped his hands together.

"Alright, what have we got then?" He said, done with talking and wanting to solve the case.


	7. Romeo and Juliet pt 3

Margaret walked down the streets fast. She didn't want to be seen or talked to or followed by anyone. She walked a few blocks before she walked into the same coffee shop from before and ordered her favorites. A small coffee, one milk, two sugars, and ice lemon pound cake. She ate her meal in the corner of the shop, watching everyone, afraid something would happen. She's been so paranoid lately, and she didn't really know why.

She then went to a store and decided she needed new stuff. She was running out of toothpaste and she could use a comb, plus a new shirt and shoes. She got all of her things for under thirty pounds. She gave the clerk the money and headed out of the shop. She instantly went to another public bathroom, she brushed her teeth and combed her hair the best she could.

She then waited, waited for, well she doesn't know what. _Who knew freedom was so confusing?_ she thought. She went back to a park and observed people. When she got tired of that, she would walk the streets. And when she got tired of that she would go back to the park. Her own boredom betrayed her and she walked back towards the scene of the crime. She didn't see Sherlock or the man anywhere. But was she glad about that? Or disappointed. She wanted to know who Sherlock is and where she's seen him before. She sighed and walked back out towards the streets.

She noticed a small church on a street a few blocks away. She smiled and found a perfect spot to lay down for sleep that night. It was still noticeable by the people on the streets, but she didn't think a lot of people would notice her. She huddled herself up into her blanket and drifted off into sleep once again.

She suddenly awoke by a man who looked to be in his fifties yelling at her. She couldn't quite comprehend what he was saying, but judging by the priest-like outfit he was wearing, she knew that he wanted her gone. She ran and stumbled onto the street, clutching her blanket. Her blanket wrapped around her feet, which caused her to trip and fall into someone. She quickly regained her balance and wrapped the blanket away from her feet.

"I am so sorry, I-" But she stopped short when she noticed who she fell into. Sherlock.

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. He looked genuinely shocked too. She noticed the army doctor standing beside him, a curious look on his face.

"Margaret." Sherlock smiled. He has still holding onto her arms from when he caught her. He let go. "What a lovely surprise, we were just talking about you." Sherlock said, motioning to the man, a grin plastered on his face

"What were you talking about?" Margaret asks nervously, she took a few steps back from Sherlock for he was too close for comfort.

"What you said back at the scene, and you know, coffee shops." He said. Taking a strand of hair that was close to her bruise and tucked it behind her ear. He glanced at the bruise then back at her eyes. Her eyes widened a little more and she took the hair that he moved and put it back to it's original place, trying to cover the bruise a little more. That action that he did made her feel uncomfortable. Not just because of the bruise, but because his gentle touch when he glided his fingers over her forehead, careful not to touch the bruise. She shuddered and could feel the goose bumps on her arms.

Her head tilted back as she avoided his gaze. The Army Doctor then spoke up.

"You remember me don't you?" He asked. Margaret glanced up at him and nodded slightly. "You left your wallet in the shop, I was trying to give it back." He said. She then looks up at him in confusion. _So that's where my wallet went_. There was no money in it, but it was hard to carry so much money in her pocket. She then realized that he hadn't ran after her to question her about her bruise, he was trying to return her wallet. She then relaxed her shoulders a little bit.

"Thanks, well where is it?" She asked them, looking at Sherlock again, who was already looking at her, and studying her like a book.

"It's in our flat, we can take you if you like." The man said.

"Sure." Margaret replied. They then all walked off into the direction the men were originally going. Margaret stayed a few feet behind them.

"I'm John Watson by the way." The man said and glanced over to Sherlock's other side, when he realized she wasn't there, he looked behind him and his eyes found hers. He could tell that she was unsure and shy. He sighed and stopped walking for a few seconds for her to catch up with him. Sherlock did the same. She walked in the middle of the two men, feeling more awkward then she ever had in her entire life.


	8. Romeo and Juliet pt 4

They arrived at the flat at 221B Baker St. Margaret watched and calculated the men's lives. John Watson, the army doctor who got shot in war. He's befriended Sherlock Holmes and they now share a flat all while solving crimes. Sherlock, she still couldn't remember him, but he was a hard book to read. It basically seems like he's been detecting all of his life. She can tell that he's been observing her too, trying to figure out her life. Margaret assumed she'd be an easy book to read, mostly because of the way she dressed, her bruise, and her uneasiness about almost everything.

She didn't really think twice about going to the men's flat and getting her wallet back. She felt she had to be nice and courteous to John, since she felt so embarrassed. They walked into the flat.

"Sherlock, I told you not to leave your experiments in the fridge. It is purely for food!" An elderly woman exclaimed as she came to the front door from her own flat. The boys were taking off their coats. Margaret started taking hers off too, but Sherlock came behind her and shrugged it off for her. She smiled a thanks and turned her attention back to the woman.

"Oh." The woman exclaimed as she saw Margaret. She then smiled a bright smile that lit up her eyes. Margaret smiled.

"Mrs. Hudson, this is Margaret. Margaret, Mrs. Hudson." John said. The two women exchanged handshakes and smiles.

"Is she one or your new girlfriends?" She asked John, curiosity on her face. John scoffed.

"No, no, I just found her wallet and giving it back to her, that's all." He said. "Although, she apparently is Sherlock's new partner." John smirked. Margaret blushed and looked down. Mrs. Hudson had confusion on her face.

"It's a long story." Sherlock said to Mrs. Hudson and started walking upstairs. Margaret and John followed. They arrived in the flat. Margaret observed as she saw a bunch of experiments and books strewn along the floor. It was then that she knew, that Sherlock Holmes was not like any old detective.

"Sorry." John apologized and started cleaning up. Sherlock just sat in a chair, putting his fingers together and sat in a thinking position.

"No, no it's fine." Margaret smiled. He smiled back.

"We don't normally get guests." John commented. But Margaret could tell. She looked back at Sherlock to only see that he was already looking at her. When he didn't look away, she looked away and hid her face behind her hair.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" John then asked. Margaret couldn't remember when she last had a good cup of tea. She wanted to say yes, but she knew she should be going before it got too dark for her to find a place to sleep.

"Please." She said. She mentally cursed at herself. John smiled warmly and scurried off to the kitchen. "You can sit down!" He yelled from the kitchen. She nodded to herself and sat in the chair opposite of Sherlock. She looked up and he gave a small smirk, almost daring her to talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, did you solve the case?" he asked. Sherlock straightened in his chair.

"Yes. It was an overdose, girlfriend came into her boyfriend's flat to find him dead. That was what all the screaming was about. He left a note though, but it wasn't for her. He was cheating on his girlfriend with a man. That's why he always wore color. There was makeup on him, it was his own. There were scars shaped as stars on him. That lead us to his girlfriend, who is a theater director. She dressed him in all black so his other lover would realize that what he did was a mistake. But she wanted to make him feel beautiful so she did all of that. Simple." Sherlock said. Margaret slightly smiled. She knew it.

"If it wasn't for you though, I would have had a hard time figuring this case out." Sherlock added. Margaret's smile faltered. He was staring at her the way that she stares at other people when he's trying to figure them out. She looked down, face full of sadness.

"May I ask you a few questions?" He asked. She felt uncomfortable and mad at the same time.

"Go for it." She said, but her tone was dull and somber. He leaned forward in his chair, trying to look at her face under her hair.

"How did you figure it out?"

"What? I already told you."

"Yes, but how did you figure it out?!" He yelled, raising from his chair.

"Sherlock!" John accusingly yelled at him as he entered the room with a tray and tea on it. Sherlock looked at John with distaste then sat back down in his chair. "Sorry Margaret, he always needs to know everything." John said as he handed her tea and sat down in his own chair. Margaret gently smiled. She didn't really feel like tea anymore, so she just held it in her hands, warming them up before she spent the night in the cold.

"It's fine, I'm used to it." She said, silently referring to her mother and her boyfriends always yelling at her. John, sensing her sadness, quickly changed the topic.

"So, where do live?" He asked. She looked up at him, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. _Did they see me sleeping by the church?_

"Uh, west." She said. Which used to be true. John nodded awkwardly while Sherlock still observed her. It was getting on her nerves.

"Look, I can tell that you are a really good detective. But would you mind not trying to figure me out every second?" She said to Sherlock, a small amount of acid slipping off her tongue. His eyes narrowed quizzically.

"Sorry." He said. "It's getting late, and west is a while away, do you need a taxi?" He said. She was confused.

"Oh, no, I like walking." She said.

"But it's freezing out." John said.

"She knows." Sherlock said. "That's why she carries a blanket with her." John put his palm to his forehead in disbelief in his stupid friend. Margaret didn't look down, she wanted to fight her fear. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. She glared at him. She knew that they both knew that she was homeless.

"Well, Margaret, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave for his stupidity." John said. Margaret shook her head and looked down. She felt tears pricking at her eyes.

"Yeah, I think I'll go, can I have my wallet please?" She asked, not looking John in the eye. He nodded and went into another room. She set her tea down and started getting up.

"Margaret." Sherlock said, trying to stop her from leaving. "I'm sorry, it's just - this is what I do. I can figure out almost any crime, no matter how difficult. It just surprised me how you figured out this crime. And it's hard for me to read you." He said.

"I'm not a book Sherlock." She said and headed for the door.

"Sorry." He whispered and looked down. "Here's my number." He said grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling his number down. "Call me if you need anything." Sherlock said and gave a weak smile. She didn't return it just as John came back.

"Here you go." John said as he gave her her wallet.

"Thanks."

"If you want a chat or anything just stop by." He said. She nodded. They followed her down the stairs to the front door. Before Sherlock could put her coat on her, a lame excuse of an apology, she shoved it on herself.

"Thanks, for the wallet." She said, giving John a smile. He returned it. She avoided Sherlock's eyes.

"It was nice meeting you." She said, then headed out the door into the dark, cold night.


End file.
